THE SIREN'S SONG
She glides upon the night shadow
Sweet silk spun from a dream.
Somewhere past the silver willow
Of silence quelling scream.
She is the Huntress of the Night,
Speaks love for fallen prey.
Come to relish the grim delight
Of kill left to decay.
By lure of lust upon the lips,
No scavenger may taste.
Am I now meshed the crimson drips
Of new life given waste.
It writhes within her eyes.
She dances with sisters of Hate
But hordes herself the prize.
Cloaked in evil, her coat soft white
Yet shimmers in the dark.
By Mystic allure of the Night
Befalls brother the mark.
By every sanctioned law of life
Falls virtue, now unbidden.
Now all fair game for Siren, rife
Naught here remains forbidden.
Feast now, forever, heart to heart,
May none appease this haunting.
Eyes of the dead duly impart -
Lay me to the glade, wanting.
Forest echoes soft Raven tress,
Never mine, ‘er I long.
If but to die in sweet caress
Victim, the Siren's song.
For all behind was dark and drear,
And all before was night and fear.
How many hours of night or day
In those suspended pangs I lay,
I could not tell; I scarcely knew
If this were human breath I drew.
[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 05-07-2000).]